


Meddling

by TuppingLiberty



Series: Tlib February Ficlet Challenge 2018 [11]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Client!Baze, M/M, Massage, Mischevious Daemons, brief mention of a previous attempted sexual assault, but not like that, massage therapist!Chirrut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 12:52:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13718079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuppingLiberty/pseuds/TuppingLiberty
Summary: Massage Therapist Chirrut has a crush on one of his clients, Baze, but doesn't want to give the wrong impression or cross his own boundaries.Luckily neither Chirrut's nor Baze's daemons see the need for boundaries.FFC day 16: Daemon auOne month. Twenty-eight prompts. Twenty-eight pairings. One ficlet a day. Write Fast.





	Meddling

“Oh man, Chirrut, the lady on the corner dyed her hair again.” 

“What color this time?” Chirrut asked softly. 

“Like a minty grey.” 

“Huh. Does it look good?”

Chirp hummed on his shoulder as he deliberated carefully. “I guess,” he finally murmured into Chirrut’s ear. 

Chirrut grinned at the begrudging compliment. His daemon was named Chirp for a reason; rarely could the little monkey on Chirrut’s shoulder resist a sarcastic remark as he helped guide Chirrut through the world. A lot of folks told Chirrut that they loved how he always had a smile on his face. None of them realized that he always had a smile on his face because of whatever comment Chirp had just made in his ear. 

Chirp kept up a steady stream of commentary on the citizens of San Francisco and their daemons, interspersed with little guides like “you can cross now” and “asshole driver, hold back.” Chirp had been committed to Chirrut’s protection since an early age, finally settling on the monkey form because he had felt it was the most out-of-the-way, yet useful, spot he could be on Chirrut. 

Chirrut’s cane tapped along the sidewalk he knew quite well; he’d been able to keep his massage therapy office afloat for much longer than anyone would have thought, because people were often underestimating Chirrut. Expertly, he unlocked the metal gate and pulled it across, revealing his small storefront. There was just a waiting room with a large water cooler and a kettle and the accoutrements for tea, a small bathroom, and a back room separated by a curtain, with his massage table, low lights, incense, and small speakers for the music. His friend Lyra assured him that the decor was elegant and appropriate, and he trusted her on such matters. 

“Who’s first today?” 

Chirp glided down Chirrut’s arm and hit the button to make the computer talk. While Chirp couldn’t read, he could perform tasks like this that made Chirrut’s life easier. 

The computer listed off Chirrut’s appointments, ending with-

“Oh, the cute guy’s coming today, huh?”

“Shut up, Chirp.” The problem with Chirp was that sometimes Chirp turned all that sarcasm and teasing on  _ him. _

“Are you going to ask him out this time?”

“He is a  _ client. _ That would be… you  _ know _ how that would look, and it’s not like we need more trouble.” 

“I should have bitten that asshole.” Chirp was angry; so was Chirrut. A client who’d taken liberties, who’d assumed a ‘happy ending’ was involved in Chirrut’s massages. Who’d assumed he could take advantage of a blind man. 

A quick flip over Chirrut’s shoulder and a call to the police had shut that particular man up. But it was always a danger, and Chirrut was extremely wary of how he portrayed himself now. 

Chirp jumped up on his shoulder and pinched at his ear. “Stop victim blaming, Chirrut.” 

“Victim blaming? Have you been staying up late watching TV again? Where’d you learn that?”

Chirp flicked his ear again. “Doesn’t matter where I learned it, you’re not allowed to do it, okay?”

Chirrut’s lips lifted in a reluctant smile as he moved through the massage room, getting everything ready. 

 

“Mr. Malbus.” Chirrut bowed, feeling Chirp tighten his tail to stay on Chirrut’s shoulder. “Is Paloma enjoying the spot I cleared for her in the window?” Yes, it was a question he could have asked of Chirp, but he so enjoyed Baze Malbus’ low, rumbling voice. 

“She is, thank you.” 

“If you would like to go back and get ready, please, just call out when you’re done.” 

Baze’s massages were mostly therapeutic. He had a shoulder injury that they were working on, although he paid Chirrut for a full hour - the whole body. Much of the hour would be spent on his shoulders, where he carried all of his tension. 

Chirp could make clients uncomfortable, and he often went out and pestered or chattered to the client’s daemon, instead, if they knew each other. Chirp liked Paloma, although he called her snooty. Chirrut could sense the same fondness in Chirp’s voice for the cat as when he talked about Lyra’s wolfhound. 

“I’m ready,” came Baze’s rumble, and Chirrut stepped to the other side of the curtain and moved along the wall to find his warming oil. 

The massage passed as it always did; Chirrut worked Baze’s muscles hard, making Baze groan, but murmuring assent when Chirrut checked in on him. Baze was his last client of the day because Chirrut used the last remaining strength he had reserved; Baze liked a hard, hurting massage, had told Chirrut a dozen times at this point that that was the only way he derived benefit from them. Chirrut was happy to oblige, as he was with all of his clients, of course, but he’d learned after the first time that after a Baze massage, he needed a night’s rest. 

He’d also learned that Baze liked chatter. Clients either went two ways, either wanting total silence or chatting back with him. But Baze preferred neither; instead, he liked Chirrut to fill up the empty space, and Chirrut had no problem with that. At this point, he’d probably told Baze every one of his stories a dozen times, but it didn’t matter, apparently, to Baze, who always tipped well and made another appointment. 

“Can you sit up for me, please?” Chirrut murmured, helping Baze to a sitting position. He felt bone-deep satisfaction at the relaxation he felt in Baze’s body, especially because the next part often hurt. He stood between Baze’s legs, letting Baze rest his face against the soft cotton of his t-shirt as he slowly rotated Baze’s shoulder as far as he could. The old physical therapy training came in handy for clients like Baze. 

“How’s that feel?”

“Great. Amazing.” Baze blew a breath out against his stomach and then sat back. “You do amazing work, Mr. Îmwe.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Malbus.”

There was a short silence, in which Chirrut turned away to give Baze his privacy as he got dressed again, but then Baze cleared his throat. “Um. If you wanted to, um. Call me Baze, you could. You could do that if you want.” The quiet hesitancy in Baze’s voice was so damned irresistible, and Chirrut couldn’t help but turn back and beam at him. 

“I’d love to, if you call me Chirrut.” 

“I’d love to,” Baze echoed. 

Out in the waiting area, Chirrut set the kettle on for Baze’s favorite peppermint tea, then poured Baze a whole glass of water when he heard Baze's soft footsteps behind him. “You know the drill, Baze. Drink that whole thing down, and the tea, and then you can leave.” He grinned. 

Baze let out a soft little laugh. “Yeah, I know it by now.” When he’d first started coming, he’d tried to get out of the office as soon as possible after the massage, but Chirrut absolutely wouldn’t allow that. Baze - as with many of his other clients - needed time to come back out of what Chirrut had decided was much like subspace after a massage, and forcing liquids on them helped with that. This was also when he got the tiniest bits of conversation out of Baze, as he went through his own aftercare routine, getting water for himself, and tea, and stretching out well-used muscles. 

Chirp joined him again, resting on his shoulder, uncharacteristically quiet, but then he often was for Baze’s sessions, unless he was prodding Chirrut into saying something inappropriate. 

It happened when Chirrut had just set down Baze’s tea on the table and was moving back around to make his own cup. With no warning from his apparently good-for-nothing daemon, Chirrut felt something twist between his legs at the same time that Baze exclaimed, “Paloma, no!” and then Chirrut was falling.

Falling backwards.

Into Baze’s lap.

He felt his cheeks flush, felt hot all over. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry, Mr. Malbus, I’ll-” He made a move to get up, but Baze’s arms were firmly around him. 

It seemed to take Baze a second to realize that he was still holding onto Chirrut.  _ “I’m _ sorry,” he whispered in Chirrut’s ear, before setting him down on the couch beside him, and withdrawing his hands. “Paloma is normally much more graceful and aware than that.” 

“Yeah, well, Chirp is normally a lot better about warning me, too.” Chirp had jumped off of him at the fall, and Chirrut didn’t know where he was. “Something tells me this was planned…” he muttered, not intending for Baze to hear. 

“I think so, too.” Baze’s touch was tentative along his hand. “Paloma has been trying to get me to say something for awhile.” 

“Say- say something?”

“It’s- I don’t want to threaten your boundaries. You told me about that asshole, and,” Baze’s hand clenched over his. “I don’t want to be another asshole you have to defend yourself from.” 

“Are you...interested in me?”

“I… yes. Yes, I am. And not because your a massage therapist so I think you  _ owe _ me or you’re  _ asking for it _ or something.” Baze went quiet. “Because I want to get to know you better,” he whispered. 

“Oh.” For once, Chirrut was entirely speechless. Then, he grinned. “I’d like to get to know you better, too, Mr. Silent. How about you take me out to dinner?”

Baze let out a little huff of what sounded like disbelief. “I’d like that.”

“Can I?” Chirrut held his hand up. He knew Baze’s body almost like his own at this point, but he’d never felt his face. 

“Yeah,” Baze whispered back, taking Chirrut’s hand and guiding it straight to his smile.

**Author's Note:**

> So daemon au was totally new to me, I've never even read one before, but I like this au, so let me know if you want me to write more of it!


End file.
